


Come What May

by LokiNeedsHugs1031



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Castiel, Angst, Bottom Dean, Cas loves Dean, Cas takes care of Dean, Case Fic, Castiel (Supernatural) is Loved, Castiel Realizes His Feelings For Dean Winchester, Come What May, Crying Castiel, Crying Dean, Crying Dean Winchester, Dean Crying During Sex, Dean Has Sex, Dean Loves Cas, Dean Winchester Realizes His Feelings For Castiel, Dean falls in love, Dean is Loved, Dean's Birthday, Domestic Castiel/Dean Winchester, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Feelings Realization, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Happy Castiel/Dean Winchester, Hurt, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt Sam Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Men of Letters Bunker, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Protective Castiel, Supernatural Season 12, Top Castiel, Touch-Starved, Touchy-Feely, season 12
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-25
Updated: 2017-01-25
Packaged: 2018-09-19 20:46:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9459830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LokiNeedsHugs1031/pseuds/LokiNeedsHugs1031
Summary: Cas rescues Dean on his Birthday





	

**Author's Note:**

> So it's Dean Winchester's Birthday (I'm one day late) and I couldn't just write fluff. Yes, I had to add a rescue so angst ensues! Ahhhh Enjoy! I will edit in the morning but enjoy! And yes I was listening to the Moulin Rouge soundtrack as I wrote, hence the title!

            Dean had lost count of the days, given that he wasn’t even remotely aware of when it was day or night. He’d scratched away on his wall to the best of his knowledge. Scratched until the coin he was using was worn and unrecognizable. He had run out of things to assure Sam that Cas and Mom would find them. It was the silence that began to eat at him, and it was no access to time that began to eat at his sanity. He found himself pacing, not sleeping, not even his four hours. He would guess that it were 30 minutes to an hour of sleep.

            Tonight, today, it didn’t matter as he paced the small expanse of his cell, his only conciliation being the soft snores of Sam next door. One thing he had to give himself credit for, he hadn’t broken down. Not once. Sometimes he’d tell himself it was for Sam, other times he would tell himself if he started…he might not stop. Maybe that’s why he refused to lie down for more than an hour. All these thoughts and in the quietest parts of his existence, he would think of Cas. He would think how the angel couldn’t find him. Not his location. The goddamn sigils on his ribs assured that. And even though he found himself uselessly praying to God, to Cas, he knew he would not be found.

            With that thought. That tiny thought, his chest tightened, as well as his throat, he swallowed roughly. Just as he was sure that he was at the edge of a possible meltdown he heard the commotion in the hallway. A loud explosion. The lights went black, in their wake the blinding red light took its place.

            “Sam?”

            “What do you think is going on?” Sam asked through the small opening in his own cage.

            “No idea,” Dean croaked, clearing his throat loudly to eradicate any emotion that had been brimming earlier, “Be on alert.”

            He was sure Sam was nodding, his little brother going quiet.

            Dean couldn’t see much through the opening of the prison door, but he could hear shouting.

            And then a bright, blue light that had him covering his own head, almost instinctively falling to the floor. The booming, the screams went silent. Dean was preparing to fight, whatever had made its way into this prison, facility, whatever the fuck it was, was not playing around.

            The signature rough, deep voice of Castiel resonated through the hallway.

            Dean’s eyes went wide, he was rushing back to the opening, fingers clenched around the edges, “Cas?!”

            “Dean?!”

            “Here, in here!” Dean shouted, but it came out so much weaker, higher than he anticipated.

            Cas was speaking to Sam, and then another explosion fill the hallway.

            “Stand away from the door,” Cas ordered.

            Dean did as told, already sure that Cas was readying to blast the door open. He did just that.

            “Dean, are you hurt?” Cas was asking, blue eyes wild and frantic, “Dean…” he started once more but without another word Dean was throwing his arms around the angel and holding tight.

            The hunter had little care that Cas was still muttering his name, asking if he were hurt, all Dean could do clutch and hold onto the shorter man, aptly burying his face in the shoulder of his trench coat and breathing deep, deep until his lungs burned. He thought he might have said Cas’ name out loud, sure he had when Cas was reciprocating the embrace, his hands running up and down Dean’s back.

            Dean pulled away, just far enough to capture Cas’ gaze, one that was drenched in worry, unconsciously he was wetting his lips desperately trying to find words. But then Cas was resting both hands to Dean’s face, his thumbs caressing the thin flesh below his eyes, “Are you hurt?”

            Dean gulped and shook his head, “They didn’t really do anything. J-Just…intent on keeping us here to rot…I-I don’t know…how long…has it been?”

            “It doesn’t matter, I’m here now. Let’s get you out of here, get you home.” Cas was nodding unbeknownst to himself, “Come on,” he didn’t say much after that, simply took Dean’s hand in his own and led him out and over the rubble that was now the entrance of the prison.

            There Sam stood, alongside their mother, looking just as harried as Dean. Not thinking twice, he launched himself forward, arms fast and strong around his younger brother and Sam held on tight as well. Much like he’d done with Cas, Sam’s face was burrowed in the older hunter’s shoulder. They stayed like that for a long minute before Mary was rubbing one arm of each brother.

            “We should get out of here, we don’t know if they’ll send backup,” she spoke evenly in a way that reveled emotion but gave urgency to their situation.

 

            Dean was only faintly aware of Cas’ hand returning to his own, the bright blinding force of the sun was like a blade in his eyes. This hissing from his lips was testament to the shock of the outside. But it was cold. Bone chilling cold and there was snow incasing everything around this compound, “Where are we?”

            “Nebraska panhandle,” Mary offered, “Let’s get out of this hell hole.”

            They piled into the Impala, Mary at the wheel, Sam in the passenger, and without request Cas eased Dean into the backseat and sat beside him.

            Dean wasn’t sure if it was the pure and utter shock of being rescued so abruptly that had him moving so zombie-like, or allowing Cas to lead him. He wasn’t sure if it was some kind of trauma eking its way up to aptly take hold and pull him down, but he couldn’t get his brain to catch up with the outright affection Cas was executing. Maybe he looked more frantic than he was letting on and Cas saw that. Maybe he felt the need to anchor him.

            The car-ride, long as it was with Mary driving more than 10 over the speed limit all the way back to Kansas, was quiet. Dean was lulling and couldn’t bring himself to care that every time Cas shifted he tightened his hold on Cas’ hand. Cas only gave one of his ‘almost there smiles’ and gripped back carefully, ever so often swiping his thumb across his rough palm.

            Dean thought he might have fallen asleep, darkness seeping throughout the car against his eye-lids. But he realized they were in the garage of the bunker. He’d yet to open his eyes but was doing so when he heard his mother softly whispering Sammy’s name. They’d driven, non-stop, at least 7 hours. However, Dean’s calculation of time had been completely skewered these last few weeks, months, he wasn’t sure.

            “Dean, you’re exhausted,” Cas murmured, gingerly urging him out of the car, he had him by the elbow as they were soon descending the long, iron staircase, “Are you hungry?”

            Dean shook his head, only subtly aware that Cas was taking care of him and Sam was in their mother’s care. Everything seemed muted, so he was surprised he could hear the softly uttered, “Get some rest, sweetheart,” from his mother’s mouth, “Castiel and I have upped the security here. No one is gettin’ in here.” a hand on his face and then his shoulder, “Put him to bed huh?”

            “Of course,” Cas answered.

            As the two men breached the bedroom door, Dean found it harder to breathe, his apathy or numbness, no matter what it was that had grown in strength was sleuthing away. He looked down at the steel grey jumper he’d been forced into at the beginning suddenly seemed restricting and he was shaking violently without warning. His trembling fingers fought the buttons but his hands weren’t working and it wasn’t until he could hear his own gasping that Cas’ warm hands closed over his own.

            “Let me help you, breathe Dean,” Cas whispered gently, guiding Dean’s hands away to rest at his sides and then began working on the buttons deftly.

            Dean watched every move, his control waning in every aspect possible, he felt a hitch in his chest. He knew. He knew damn well that the last few months were raptly catching up. Lucifer possessing Cas, giving himself up as martyr to save the world, searching desperately for Sam, and then this. Imprisonment. Hidden away, no hopes of escape. No hopes of a future, no way out.

            “Shhhh,” Cas’ shushing baritone voice broke through the reverie, pushing the jumper over his shoulders, working his arms out of the sleeves. At this point Cas had pointedly led Dean to the edge of the bed once he’d gotten the jumper to his waist.

            Dean only had a loose-fitting pair of boxers underneath and the outfit altogether wasn’t warm, he’d spent many nights huddling for warmth in his prison. All the while he was wondering how cold Sammy was and the thought made his parental instinct kick, making him so protective he felt sick.

            The chilly air of the bunker scattered goosebumps across his flesh and he made a muffled whimpering sound that had Cas working faster. Nimble fingers removing his boots, one by one, “Would you like a bath Dean? A shower? You’re quite chilled.”

            “No,” Dean choked, furiously shaking his head, eyes now on his own naked thighs, “J-Just need to get into my bed. _My_ bed…”

            “Alright,” Cas was still speaking in that soft, deep tone that Dean had only heard a handful of times, “Stay put,” the angel returned to the edge of the bed, now kneeling in front of the hunter, “Lift your hips for me.” he removed the remainder of the affronting cloth and tossed it somewhere out of sight.

            Dean did everything as he was told, he realized Cas was dressing him, “Cas…you don’t have to…”

            “Shhh,” Cas said again, shimmying the sweatpants up Dean’s bowed legs, and then he was tapping Dean’s arms, “Up.”

            The soft, worn cloth of the t-shirt went over his head, Cas worked his arms through the holes and as it passed across his face the smell of home hit him like a slap. And then Cas was pulling back the sheets, hooking his palms beneath Dean’s knees and snuggly fitting him beneath the warm cotton of the sheets and wool comforter.

            Cas was meticulously tucking Dean in, and the hunter knew it.

            As Cas moved, only in the slightest away from the bed, Dean’s hand shot up like a bullet and latched onto Cas’ wrist, “Please stay…” Jesus, had that really left his mouth? Yes, yes it had. But he was dizzy with an emotion he couldn’t properly identify. Did he just not care anymore? He wasn’t sure, but he was still firmly holding Cas’ wrist.

            “Of course Dean, of course I will,” he brought Dean’s hand to his lips and kissed the white clenched state of his knuckles gently and carefully, “Let me get situated, it’s alright.”

            Dean watched as Cas shed his trench-coat, his suit jacket, his shoes, un-buttoning his dress shirt at the wrists until he was only clad in his dress-shirt and boxers, “Is this alright?” he asked.

            Dean nodded, fractionally more calm, “Y-Yeah, just, come on, get in here.” he almost added ‘please; but the frenzied, shaken sound of his voice was unsettling enough.

            “Do you want the light on?” Cas asked, when Dean nodded his head, Cas shimmied in next to him. He arranged the covers around them both, when Dean laid somewhat stiffly Cas was rolling his eyes, “Come here.”

            All caution thrown to the wind Dean turned fully to face Cas, his eyes burning fiercely now. That tiny loss of control that had been creeping before Cas and his Mom had arrived was rising. Almost ‘falling apart’ was nearing the edge, but when Cas rested a palm against his cheek, before his long fingers were threading through Dean’s hair…he lost it. The sob leapt up like a hiccup and Cas didn’t even hesitate, one arm scooped tentatively around Dean’s shoulders and back and rolled him against Cas’ chest until their foreheads were resting against one another. All the while Cas caressed his scalp, fingertips resting at the nape of his neck and caressing.

            They laid like that a long time, Dean sobbing shamelessly into the stark white dress shirt adorning Cas’ chest, his free arm around Cas’ waist pulling him close, “How long…how long was I gone?” he cried.

            “9 weeks, four days, 7 hours…56 minutes…” Cas murmured against his temple, before pressing a careful kiss, lips moving only slightly to his cheek, “The longest I have been without you…since purgatory.”

            Dean hiccoughed loudly, burrowing in the space between Cas’ shoulder and throat.

            “We never stopped looking for you. I am so sorry it took so long, Dean, I’m so sorry,” Cas sighed, arms winding tighter around Dean’s torso, absentmindedly bringing the blanket up more for warmth, the innocent kisses continuing in the mussed strands of his hair that needed cutting.

            “I know…I know you looked for me,” Dean gulped, pushing just enough so he could look Cas in the eye. What he didn’t expect was the glassy nature of Cas’ blue orbs, his cheeks flushed. Dean reached out and without knowing why brushed a thumb over Cas’ plush, pink lips, “If there were anybody that wasn’t gonna give up on an idiot like me it would be you.”

            “Dean,” Cas frowned, brow furrowing deeply, “I’ll always search for you, always help you, always love you.”

            Dean’s heart leapt, but then, as soon as he thought panic should rise like a wave. It didn’t, “Love me?”

            Cas sighed, as if the exhaustion of his entire existence had finally caught up with him, “I tire of hiding it Dean. I can do it no longer. Yes, love, why would I still be here? Tell me that much…”

            But the angel couldn’t finish as Dean silenced him with the pressing of their lips together. He hated that he whimpered as he did so, delivering this chaste, much over-due kiss, pouring everything he’d meant to say for 8 years. Fuck in so many instances, even when he was being the ‘soldier’ Dean wanted him. Loved him. He wasn’t sure if it was the whole ‘putting him back together’ crap, but that didn’t matter now. He deepened the kiss. Cas loved him, that gave him warrant to do so he figured. As if asking permission Cas’ tongue merely brushed’ Dean’s and Dean opened said mouth eagerly. That, however, didn’t hide the cry that leapt up like the sob earlier had done. It was a cry of relief, of fear that this wasn’t real.

            “I’m right here,” Cas assured, kissing him open mouth once more before moving to his cheeks, the lids of his eyes, “I’m not going anywhere Dean, are you hearing me? We’ve been through far too much.”

            “Yeah, okay,” Dean choked, eyes still closed, but he was nodding. He gulped again, louder than before, “Cas…”

            “Yes?” Cas answered, kissing his brow, gathering him closer to his chest.

            “You know…how long?” he stopped himself, pushing himself up on one elbow.

            “How long what?” Cas asked, tilting his head to the side in a way that had Dean laugh softly, almost soundly.

            “How long…that I’ve loved you…”

            “Dean,” Cas gave a small chastising smile, “As much as you would like to deny such a thing…since I gripped you…rose you from hell…rebuilt you. Every, beautiful inch of you. We have loved each other…a very long time. I have loved you always.”

            “Why didn’t you…I mean…you never said anything.”

            “I think you know why,” Cas sighed, lowering just enough to brush his lips against Dean’s brow.

            “I’m so stupid,” Dean growled, “All this time…I mean…if I’d opened my stupid mouth…maybe you wouldn’t have said yes to Lucifer or thought for even a second that you weren’t worth…”

            Cas rolled Dean onto his back, “Dean Winchester…we will deal with all this accordingly. In time, we will, but now? You are safe, here with me. We are here together.”

            “Cas,” Dean huffed but was stopped by Cas’ eager lips nipping firmly at his bottom lip.

            “Do you think you could sleep?” the angel asked, still kissing him carefully and sweetly in a way Dean wasn’t use to. It was kisses of promises, of love and safety.

            “I-I think,” Dean trembled, “Just…be here when I wake up. Please…I can’t wake up alone anymore.”

            Cas’ hot breath was caressing over his brow, “I am never leaving you again.”

            Dean curled against him with a painful grunt, arms wrapped tightly and face hidden aptly, “I love you Cas, I do.”

            “I love you too, I always have,” Cas said with more promise than Dean felt he deserved.

 

            Dean had fallen asleep with Cas’ humming chest below his ear and he jolted, forgetting where he was his body taught and on alert. Then Cas was just there, like he said he’d be, “Shhh, you’re safe Dean. I’m here.”

            “S-Sorry, I forgot where I was,” Dean cleared the sleep from his throat, clumsily pushing up from the bed, “What time is it?”

            “A little after midnight, you slept 14 hours,” Cas answered.

            “14 hours?!” Dean squawked.

            “Dean, calm yourself, you can’t have been sleeping. I wasn’t about to wake you, you hardly slept before this ordeal. I’ve never seen you sleep so soundly.”

            Dean slumped against the bed, throwing a arm over his face, “Cas,” Dean started, with sleep in his court he was able to garner his emotions more adequately, “I meant to ask this but I just…I don’t know…couldn’t collect my thoughts.”

            “Yes?” Cas asked, taking one of Dean’s hands.

            “I know I’ve been gone…in that place for longer than I can even count but…what month is it. I saw snow but ya know…the Midwest is so fucked up…”

            “January,” Cas offered, “Almost February.”

            Dean closed his eyes, shaking his head, “Typical.”

            “What?”

            “Nothing,” Dean chuckled humorlessly, “What’s the date?”

            “The 24th Dean, why…” Cas started, brow creasing, his head cocking sideways.

            “Doesn’t matter,” Dean huffed, he crossed the space between them and kissed Cas on the mouth, snaking fingers behind his neck to pull him close, “I-I think I’m gonna take a shower.” Dean edged off the bed, patting Cas on the bottom as he left and went into the bathroom.

 

++++++++++++++++

 

            Cas pushed off from the bed, the hiss of the shower filling the air, and walked into the kitchen where Sam was seemingly snoozing at the kitchen table/bar, “Sam, do you know what this day is?”

            “Cas, I don’t even know what month it is,” Sam groused, sipping at the lip of his tea cup.

            “It’s January the 24th,” Cas exhaled, eyes on the coffee machine.

            “Oh fuck,” Sam growled, “Damnitt, all this shit would have to happen now!”

            “What?!” Cas snapped.

            “Cas,” Sam was shaking his head, “It’s Dean’s birthday, fuck, he’s 38 today.”

            “It’s his birthday?”

            “Yeah,” Sam answered sadly, “We don’t usually do much. He wouldn’t ever let me. But damnitt at the very least we’d go out for a beer. But now? With everything that has happened…

            “It’s not your fault Sam,” Cas said.

            “No, every year, there’s something going on and fuck,” Sam sounded close to tears, “After all this…I’m so tired…”

            Quickly Cas moved to Sam’s side, “No,” he countered, “I will fix this, this isn’t your fault.”

+++++++++++++++

            Cas was sitting on the bed when Dean returned, the steam from the bathroom filling up the room.

            “Water pressure is good in this place, no doubt,” Dean commented as he crossed the room, that Winchester smirk dressing his mouth as easy as a prayer.

            Cas watched the man move around the room retrieving clean clothes from the small dresser drawers. He pushed up from the bed with an aggravated sigh, and both swiftly and gently took Dean’s face firmly between both hands and kissed him. Dean made a delicious whimpering sound, somewhere between delighted and surprised when Cas breached his mouth, their tongues meeting. Cas maneuvered Dean’s towel clad body towards the bed.

            “Cas, what…” but he was silenced by fervent lips that quickly moved down to the rapid pulse point of his throat.

            Cas easily snuck his tongue out to lap along the vein of his hunter’s throat, it was pulsing rapidly in a way that had Cas wondering if this was right, “Dean, do you want me to stop?”

            Dean grunted when Cas moved his hips in a way that had them fitted perfectly against one another, “No, I mean, no, no, I don’t want you to stop…”

            Cas bit every inch of flesh he could reach, and since Dean was only clad in a towel it was quite easy. He nipped along the thin flesh of his throat, inching down along his collar bone and in his first action of hesitance he hovered over one nipple before taking it fully in his mouth. When Dean only arched and moaned loudly, he suckled harder, one free hand searching for the other.

            “Cas,” Dean whimpered, “W-Wait…”

            Cas abandoned his ministrations, “Dean, we only move at your pace…do you understand? I will stop whenever you ask…”

            “Cas…” Dean huffed, hips arching against the angels.

            “Anything you want,” Cas nuzzled his throat.

            “I want you inside me,” Dean trembled, “T-That’s what I want.”

            “Are you sure?” Cas rose carefully above Dean’s face, to capture his gaze, “You are sure about this?”

            “Yes, Cas, I need you,” Dean clenched his eyes close, “I’m tired…of denying what I want, Cas please. I was there so long and wanting you. T-There’s lube…there…”

            Cas was both frightened and excited by the wont in Dean’s voice, even as he retrieved the lube from Dean’s night-stand, “If for any reason you wish to stop, you tell me. I only want you to feel pleasure. I will not hurt you.”

            Cas tugged away the towel, fully exposing Dean below him, “Cas…fuck…look at me,” and Cas did, “I know you won’t hurt me, that’s why I’m asking you to do this.”

            Cas nodded with knowing, eyes still locked with Dean’s he pressed kisses to his now exposed hips. Those beautiful hips he had always ached to touch, “Alright, alright, but we take it slow.” he eased Dean’s legs up, his knees to rest to his chest as he snuck a lubed finger between the and testingly circled Dean’s rim, “Is this okay?”

            “Yes, come on Cas, please.”

            Cas breached him, wincing himself, but actively watching Dean’s face for any pain. He didn’t ask as he added a second finger and he was more confident to add a third his mind set on finding that spot. Dean suddenly cried out, back arching, near screaming with a ‘fuck!’ Cas tried to still his anxiety, and then that was easier when Dean was riding backwards against his fingers with flushed, panting breaths, “Dean, talk to me.”

            “I’m alright, gah, fuck, yes, please, please Cas, come on. I’m ready,” Dean panted, a grunt following close after.

            “I will not hurt you,” Cas tried to still the want to plunge into his human, one thumb rubbing circles up and down the sensitive underside of Dean’s hip.

            “Cas, please do it!” Dean grunted, and then Cas pressed against him, length pushing past his rim, slowly, slowly, listening to any grunts of pain.

            Dean was silent, breathless, eyes closed, fully seated Cas waited,  “M-Move Cas, baby please, please move I have to feel you.”

            Cas complied, carefully, gently rocking into Dean’s entrance, he was fully seated and all fear melted away when Dean screamed ‘yes!’

            And then they were moving in tandem, like some perfect song as Cas pulled Dean’s knees to his chest, punishing his prostate with each gentle thrust. Cas captured Dean’s mouth kissing him wordless, licking the inside warmth, perfection, sweetness of his mouth.

            “Cas, Cas, Cas, please, coming,” Dean cried and without prompting Cas was caressing ever so gently with firm, careful pumps to Dean’s length. Dean came first, legs wrapped around Cas’ waist and with one quick, ‘please’ Cas was coming too. For a perfect few seconds they rocked against each other, milking one another for all it was worth. Every tender thrust had a meaning, every groan and whimper.

            Cas slumped against Dean, cheek to cheek, and that’s when he felt the tears. Salty and hot and wrong. Cas kissed each one of them away as he pulled out, “Dean, are you alright? Dean? Beloved…”

            “I’m okay,” Dean sobbed, chest hitching painfully, “I’m alright.”

            “I hurt you, didn’t I.” Cas frowned, cupping Dean’s face, forcing him to make eye contact.

            “No,” Dean shook his head, tears still falling, “No, you didn’t.”

            “I love you,” Cas said, kissing his lips, “I love you so much.”

            There was a marked silence, it lingered with the soft huffing of Dean’s slowing breaths, but then there was a careful inhalation that relieved Cas’ worries.

            “I love you too sunshine,” Dean smirked, his Winchester bravado working to ignore the tears.

            “Dean,” Cas huffed, “Dean…”

            “Yeah?” Dean took a deep, shaky breath, his control falling into place.

            “Happy Birthday Dean, my beloved, my everything.”

            “Fuck, you knew about that?” Dean’s water voice arrived above the aftermath of their orgasm, the tears returning full-force, “Cas…”

            And if Dean sobbed with no more words spoken, or every inch of his freckled flesh began to tremble with emotion, Cas didn’t say anything. He held Dean close, naked, sated, and if his father would allow the two of them anything, he would grant them a happily ever after.

           


End file.
